


Experiments

by Dillian



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Fur-Fetish, Kink-Play, Love relationship, M/M, Orgy, Sex Is Fun, Tentacle-Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: Tony has read about Loki shape-shifting into animal forms.  Now he's curious what that would look like in the bedroom.





	1. One Day, When Loki was Trying to Work

**_The Avengers_** **,** **_Iron Man_** **,** **_Thor_** **, and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics.  This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit.**

“If we could talk to the animals, learn their languages,  
Think of all the things we could discuss.  
If we could walk with the animals, talk with the animals,  
Grunt and squeak and squawk with the animals,  
And they could talk to us.”  
\-- “Talk to the Animals,” from _Doctor Dolittle_ (1967)

Loki reads.  He has all these books about (of all things) mythology.  When Tony gets bored, sometimes he’ll go in and steal one.

He has one right now.  Tony, leaning in the doorway, sunshine framing his face, making sunlight-sparkles in just-clipped dark hair.  Loki has to squint to look up at him.  “Hmm…”  Tony has one finger in the book, marking his place, and he looks over at Loki.  “Hmm,” he says, “this book has you as a redhead.  Were you ever really a redhead, Loki?”

Loki’s trying to get something done.  (Plans for Ragnarok, _if_ you must know.  Just because Thor foiled it the last time, doesn’t mean it isn’t going to happen, you just wait and see.)  He’s got Tony’s laptop, and he’s in Google-Docs working, and he kind of wishes Tony would just go away.

Tony, of course, doesn’t go away.  “That redhead thing?” he says.  “Do you dye it?  I promise I won’t tell anyone else, Loki, but you have to show me.”  Tony’s voice is getting all sentimental, like it does sometimes.  “I don’t think you’d look good as a redhead,” he says, “but you never know.  Anyway, I’d love you whatever you looked like.”

“No you wouldn’t.”  It’s a one-off line.  It’s intended to make certain billionaires, who always die a thousand deaths when someone bothers them while they’re working, but for some reason can’t seem to stop pestering other, smarter people, go away, so Loki can get back to what he’s doing.  It doesn’t work.

Tony just gets a scheming look on his face, and stays right where he is.  “Oh yeah?”  He looks like he’s thinking…  No, that’s not right; Tony’s always thinking.  He looks like he’s thinking of something, of a specific something.

Last time was when Tony wanted to see Loki’s Frost Giant form, and he ended up making that cold-resistant suit, so that they could fuck that way.  No judgments on that, it was some very good fucking, but he’d better not try that right now, when Loki’s trying to work.

And of course, he tries that right now.  “It’s funny you should be so stubborn about the hair-thing,” he tells Loki.  “There are some other things in here, some other… you know, _shapes_?”

The book is open in his hands, and he’s holding it angled, so Loki can see what he’s reading.  He’s reading the…  Oh dear, that’s the story about Svaðilfari, isn’t it?  Loki sighs.  It’s not one of his proudest moments ...although raising Sleipnir was nice.

Loki sighs.  “What are you thinking about, Stark?”

“Nothing.”  Tony comes over.  He closes the laptop, and pushes it to one side.  “Whatever you’re working on,” he says, “I’ll help you with it later.”  (He is going to be so _mad_ , when he finds out it’s a plan for the end of the world.)  “But for right now,” he says, “I want to ask you some questions.”

Wary tone:  “ _What_ questions?”

“Oh, nothing much, maybe I should do it later.”  Tony’s kind of beating around the bush here, which isn’t normal for him, at all.  He gets up, and goes into the kitchen and gets coffee for both of them, and then he comes in and sits back down.  “You’ve just got me curious,” he says, “about some of the things in this book, for instance, oh, er, humm…”

_Oh, er, humm, what?_

“About the horse-thing…”  Is Tony nervous?   _Why_ is he nervous?  “Did you really, umm…”

_Spit it out, Stark._

“Did you,” Tony says, “and did the horse, and then did both of you… umm…”

Loki’s nice little human is getting all red in the face.  If it were anybody else, Loki would say they were embarrassed, but he knows Tony, that’s not it.   _Tony’s aroused_.

“You want to have sex with me in horse-form, don’t you?” he says.

“Oh, no, no, I would never dream…”

A deep sigh.  Tony’s all right for a mortal, but he’s got this thing he does of always wanting to push Loki to do the things he’s uncomfortable about doing.  First it was the Frost Giant thing, now he’s got his heart set on making him be a mare again for some reason.  He’s not going to stop until he has seen him in his redheaded form too, is he?

And, another sigh, heartfelt as only an intergalactic supervillain-sigh can be.  “Because you want to have sex with a mare?”

Tony reaches across the table and takes Loki’s hand.  For a minute, he just sits there like that, holding his hand in both of his own.  Then, “No, Loki,” he says.  “It’s because I love you.  And I want to see all your different sides, because I know I’ll love all of them.  And anyway, I’d rather fuck a stallion than a mare.”

Loki can’t help laughing.  “And the reason for _that_ , pray tell?”

“Oh, the dick, definitely.”  Tony’s voice is offhand, but you can see he’s been thinking about it.  “Those things are huge,” he says.  “And if they’re anyway near as sensitive as they look…”

Loki has had sex as a stallion before (although fortunately that one never made it into any of the mythology books).  “They are.”  

Now that he’s thinking about it, maybe this won’t be so bad.  After all, he’s already fucking a mere mortal, what’s the harm of adding a few more lowly beasts into the mix?  “I’ve taken other animal forms too,” he says.

“I know.”  Tony’s voice sounds downright greedy.  “The wolf-one:   _Very_ hot.  Also the snake-one…  I’m not exactly sure how the logistics for that would work.”

Loki bends over and kisses his mortal plaything.  “They’ll work,” he says.  “I’ll show you how.”


	2. Stallion

Baseline:  Here’s what it’s like with Loki in human-form.  This is just for comparison-purposes, understand?  And for comparison-purposes, Loki in human-form is fan-fucking-tastic.  Start with the hair, that looks so stiff and gelled, but it’s soft as silk, underneath your fingers.  Go on with the body, slim, and so pale all over, and then shall we focus for a moment on the ass?  It’s a very good ass.  Moving on again, we pay proper attention to the long, strong legs, and then we get to the…  Shall we say, to the _main event_?

Loki, lying on the bed, waiting for someone to come and appreciate him:  Loki loves to be worshipped, it’s probably his past history, being a god.  Loki, dark hair pooled all over the pillow, and with that green light in his eyes, sort of a hungry, greedy light.  And his smile, just a little bit of a smile…  What’s cool about that smile?  And it really sets Tony going?  Pink lips, kind of a warm pink, that’s the same exact color as his cock, and they’re there for the same purpose; they’re both there, so that you can kiss them.

So Tony can kiss them, you understand.  Not that he’s got anything against threesomes, but please, bitch, those lips belong to him.

...Okay, you’re getting the idea?  Now maybe you’ll understand what a surprise the stallion-form was, the first time Tony saw that.  He got used to it, yeah, sure, and it didn’t take him long either, but at first?

It was the size, probably.  If you haven’t noticed, horses are huge.  And this one was a particularly big one.

Loki, laughing at Tony…  This happened later on, you understand, after he’d transmogrified back.  “Your eyes,” he said, “oh Tony, if you could have seen your _eyes_!”  That was when he explained that his horse-form was a work-horse.  Not that he couldn’t transform into other kinds of he wanted to, but because that’s what he’d done the first time, when he was with Svaðilfari.  ...We’re not to this part yet.  Let’s tell what happened when Tony first saw him:

“Oh wow, oh, fuck…”  Let’s get something straight here, all right?  Tony’s used to Loki towering over him, because he does it all the time.  He’s not used to him also outweighing him by several hundred times.  And being kind of golden-brown colored, all over.  And being furry.

Here’s what else he isn’t used to:   _Being a horse himself_ …

You had to have seen that one coming, right?  Can you imagine this thing working any other way?  Let’s face it, just the logistics alone…  Let’s get back to the story.

All right, so first Loki transmogrifies himself, and he lets Tony see him like that.  Then he transmogrifies Tony too (illusion-magic only, but it feels real).  And so here’s what we’ve got, one God of Chaos, magicked into a beautiful, brown horse, standing 16 hands high.  (into a stallion, let’s be specific; two feet of hard, erect maleness make this very difficult to ignore.)  And, what else we’ve got is one billionaire, now also horse-ified, and sporting his own 24 inches of maleness, and… kind of enjoying thinking about that, actually.  And Tony’s looking at Loki, and he’s thinking…  Hoo boy, is he thinking.  And, what is he thinking?  Here it is:  He just can’t seem to help staring at Loki’s erection, and he keeps saying to himself, “ _I want that inside of me_.” That, all of it, the massive, flared head, and long thick shaft, and the ridged part, and… uggh, oh god, mmm!

He wants all of it, and he immediately starts thinking about how that’s going to work.  There’s going to be mounting involved, right?  What’s that look like?  (Tony didn’t have very many pets, when he was growing up.)

And, what it did look like…  No, even better, what it felt like:  Loki has _hooves_.  Hooves would probably feel kind of hard, against soft, human skin, but against Tony’s new animal-pelt, they feel like a caress.  And his heavy horse-body, covering Tony’s slightly smaller one, feels like protection, and power, and all kinds of good things.  And there’s a smell, an animal-smell, which for some reason is the most perfect thing in the world.

Loki, mounting Tony:  He gives him a nip.  Sharp, horse-teeth, claiming his neck, enforcing submission:  Why does that feel so good?  Hooves, on either side of his ribs, 1,100 pounds of hard-muscled body, pressed so close to his own.  And then…  Oh god, oh god, and then!

In human form, Tony likes to take it slow.  “Easy, Loki, there, like that, now more, more, more-more-more-more-more!”  Like that.  Difference of being in horse-form:  There is no slow about it!  And no talking.  Maybe he can talk in horse-form, Tony doesn’t try, so he never finds out.  Hell, maybe Loki in horse-form wouldn’t have understood him anyway, so it’s just as well he didn’t try, we’re never going to know.

Here’s what happens:  One minute he feels Loki’s hard cock against his right rear leg, the next minute, it’s inside him, all the way inside him, and it feels like it fills him completely.  It’s an amazing feeling, the best in the world.  Tony moves, he groans a little bit (it comes out sounding just like a whinny, which is weird, but yeah).  What he mostly does though, is he submits, while Loki thrusts into him over and over again, so hard that it almost knocks Tony off his four new horse’s hooves.  And then when he comes, Tony can feel it.  Loki bites down harder than ever, and then one last really hard thrust, and then jerk-jerk-jerk, as his cum jets out, and Tony can feel all of it, shooting up deep inside his body. And it never seems to stop. Gallons of the stuff.

Afterward:  You get used to the nipping, after you’ve been a horse for a while.  It feels just like kisses.  And they stand really close together, sort of like cuddling.  And then Loki turns them both back into human-form when they start to get hungry.  “Good thing,” Tony says.  “Saved me having to eat hay.”

“I’ve had hay,” Loki says.  “It’s better than it looks.”  (Loki’s good at damning stuff with faint praise.)

And Tony offers to go get him some hay, and Loki says, “No thank-you,” and then they compromise on dinner out at the shawarma place, and everything is rosy.  At the back of his mind though, Tony’s thinking about the wolf-form:  That is definitely the one they’re going to be trying next.


	3. Wolf

Here is a story about when Loki was a child.  He’s not going to tell it to you, because he hates talking about his childhood, but here it is, and it’s a good story:

Geri and Freki, Father Odin’s great wolves.  This happened long, long ago, back when Loki still thought All-Father was his father.  He was a scrawny little boy, and Thor, a little bigger, used to go off with his loutish friends, and leave him alone at the palace.

Loki would go outside.  First he got to know the ravens, Hughinn and Muninn… -- He’s been a raven too.  Who knows when Stark’s going to start having fantasies about that one? -- ...Where were we?  Yes, that’s right, the ravens:  They were good teachers.  “Try it again, Prince Loki, you can do it.”  That would be Hughinn, who was the kind one.

And, “He can’t do it, we might as well give up,” Muninn would say, and then Loki would try it again, whatever it was, one more time even harder, just to prove him wrong.

It was a pride thing.  And when he succeeded at it, whatever it was;  So much pride.  And, Hughinn’s approving voice:  “Look, he did it, a raven!”  Muninn’s skeptical tone:  “Acceptable, but the real test is flying.”  Flying came easily.  And, grooming his feathers?  Reasonably easy.  As for learning to eat carrion, that one never came.  Hughinn’s voice, again, “It’s because he’s a hunter, like All-Father,” and Muninn, snorting, finally allowing that he’d done about as well as a raven, as a boy could do.  It was after that, that they introduced him to the wolves.

There’s a whole pack of them.  Geri and Freki are just the leaders.  Long nights spent, hunting with the pack.  Nights, when Thor thought him safe abed; he used to pretend to snore until Odin’s son was asleep, then he’d slip out.  Sounds of the nighttime woods, and the _smells_ …  So many smells, a million times more than one experiences as a man or even a giant.  And running through the woods, smelling those smells:  Prey, off this way, off that way, yours for the taking!  The others kept him to the back at first, as befitted a junior member of the pack, but then later on, after his wolf-skills were stronger, he was moved forward, finally running with Geri and Freki.

Tearing into fresh prey in the middle of the night:  No meal was ever better.  And nudging the choicest morsel over toward your pack-leader, watching him take it, devour it, grunt his gruff thanks:  All-Father himself could give no greater honor.

All that was such a long, long time ago.  And periodically Loki’s thought about trying his skills again, but really, why?  Who would he be doing it for?  One thing about super-villains is they’re not an appreciative lot.  You show them something good, all they ever want to do is to upstage you.

This brings us back to the present-day, and is really just a roundabout way of explaining why, even though he put up a huge fuss when Stark suggested the wolf-thing, deep-down, Loki was sort of looking forward to it.

It also brings me to the point where I have to say:  Tony Stark did not make a very good wolf.  Loki?  He was the definitive wolf.  Thick-pelted, grey fur, shading darker around the eyes -- Piercing eyes. -- framing the long nose, the mouth, ready to curve into a smile or a snarl, depending on what was happening.  As for Tony, though?  You want to think more like a dog.  Think short, stubby, stocky.  Think rescued pit bull, some scars and bruises, but with his heart expanding, now that he’s got a home, and you’ve got Tony right there.

“You did it wrong.”  This is wolf-Tony... -- _Dog_ -Tony? -- ...This is Tony, looking up at wolf-Loki.  If you’ve ever seen your dog’s face when you don’t give him a treat?  That’s what Tony looks like, now.  “Look at me,” he says, “I belong on a leash.   _You did it wrong, Loki_.”

Loki did _not_ do it wrong.  “Is it my fault you’re too tame?” he says.  “One works with what one has.”

Human-Tony would probably respond with a cutting remark or two.  Dog-Tony growls.  Loki wants to laugh.  Growling-Tony is…  Well, he just doesn’t look like he means it.

No point telling him that though, he’d just get mad.  Nudge him with a friendly nose instead, watch how his whole body curls close to accept the caress, enjoy how his lips curve upward in a smile.  Take deep huffs of his scent…  Gods, the _smells_!  How has he gone without a wolf-nose for so long?  ...Tony, moving into position immediately.  Legs locked, and his stub of a tail out of the way:  How does he know how he’s supposed to stand?  Tony’s voice, a low whine:  “Come on, Loki, I want this.”

Tony doesn’t know what he’s asking for.  He just thinks he knows…  Does he know about the knot at the base of Loki’s cock, that’ll keep them together for up to an hour after fucking?  Or maybe he just doesn’t care?  Loki should warn him.  He should at least talk to him about it.

Tony, in position, though…  Tony, his legs set so firm, brown dog-eyes looking back, meeting Loki’s eyes.  How to resist him?  “I want it, Loki…”  Tony’s voice, soft, breathy.  A whine, not even a moan.  Feeling, like the words are going straight to his cock.  Loki feels it throbbing, demanding release.

He lets out his own noise, a soft, involuntary growl.  “Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”

Tony just moves closer.  His smell is his own smell, mixed with dog-smell, faint scent of horse-smell still there.  Instant flashback:  The two of them, fucking before, in horse-form.  If he didn’t want it before, that would have been enough, right there, and Loki moves in close and mounts him, cock thrusting, finding the opening of his asshole.  And the hotness of it...  He goes in hard, faster than he was intending to.

“Slower!”  Tony’s voice, coming in pants.  “Take it easy, Loki.”

“This is what you wanted.”  Loki’s own voice is a growl.  “Now you’re going to take it.”  He’s fully inside now, thrusting hard, short, fast pumps.  Underneath him, he feels Tony’s body open to him, and he hears, as pained whines turn into pleased, satisfied whimpers.

A bite, just to claim him as his own.  Wolf-teeth, tearing into the dog’s short pelt…  Loki can feel the scars Tony has in his dog-form, and he feels a crawl of guilt, bathes the wounded place with his tongue, and murmurs, “I hurt you.”

“No biggie.”  The mortal’s courage is endearing, whatever his form.  “I hardly felt it,” he says.  then, his own voice a growl now, “Come on, Loki, finish it, I want to feel you come inside me.”

The invitation is all he needs.  Loki feels himself right at the verge, a few more thrusts, and he’s spurting his juices, deep inside this mortal he’s claimed as his own.  This mortal, whom he loves… if Laufeyson can be said to love anyone.  He comes in a series of short, sharp thrusts, Tony’s moans, telling him that he can feel it, that he’s enjoying this as much as Loki is.

Afterwards, the knot on Loki’s penis keeps them locked together, which is exactly what he'd warned his human pet was going to happen, beforehand.  Tony, of course, acts as surprised as if he’d never heard anything at all about it.  “Come on,” he says, “I’m bored.  Can’t we even lie next to each other?”

They can’t.  And, “What if we were in human-form?” Tony says.

Human-form:  Half-human, really.  They can’t fully shift back until their bodies are unlocked.  Tony, with a dog’s smooth pelt, and his own brown eyes, and sensitive, engineer’s hands.  He’s pleasing that way.  Loki’s nose is still wolf-sensitive, and he can’t stop sniffing him, inhaling deep lungfuls of his scent, part dog, part man, and part horse.  They fall asleep that way, Tony’s body dog-heavy, in Loki’s part-wolf/part-man arms.

Afterward, Tony tells him, “You should have warned me that we’d get locked together.”

Loki just eyes him.  “You’re a scientist.  I thought you’d have done the research.”

Tony’s still all for trying it in snake-form next, though.


	4. Many Snakes

You’ve watched _The Jungle Book_ , right?  You remember the part with the snake in it?  What’s his name, Kaa?  Comical name, and they give him this comical voice.  Same guy that did him did Winnie the Pooh too; you can tell, the voices are exactly the same.  They did that because they didn’t want him to be too scary, but sometimes scary can be exciting, sometimes it can be…

Here’s the part Little Tony always fixated on:  Snake’s got the boy, right?  And he’s a constrictor, he’s got the boy wrapped in his coils, and he’s staring at him, weird, hypnotic eyes.  Smile on his face:  Oh god, that smile!  Pure power, pure control, pure danger…  And Little Tony on the sofa, watching the snake give the boy that fang-y smile of his, and he’d always shiver.  He used to rewind the movie and rewind it, watching that part over and over.  Jarvis used to come in, and he’d be like, “Master Tony, isn’t the movie done yet?”  Little Tony would be like, “Oh, err, umm…”  Classic little-kid response:  “I dunno.”  Little kid, already been building circuit-boards for a couple of years by then, but he’d be sitting there pretending he couldn’t tell time, had no idea when Jarvis had put the movie on, because he was just a little kid.

First wet-dream he ever had, was to that movie.  He was Mowgli, and there came the snake, and then…  You know he’d never told anyone that story before?  And now he’s telling Loki?  

Loki, looking at him, kind of skeptical expression on his face.  “ _That’s_ what you want, Stark?  You know, we could do the same thing with ropes.”

Tony’s like, “No, it has to be snakes.”

_Snakes_.  Plural.  Heavy on the bondage aspect, light on the hypnotism; Tony doesn’t want to miss a minute of what’s going to happen.  And how does Loki make it work?  Good question.  Illusion, maybe, or…  Who knows, maybe he brings a lot of his friend-snakes in there and they help him?  Who knows how many snakes Tony really has sex with that day, and who cares either?  Because it’s great, and whatever Loki does to make it happen, it’s totally worth it.

Tony stays in human-form for this one. -- “ _Next_ time…”  This is his god/super-villain boyfriend talking, you understand.  “Next time, Stark, you’re going to be a snake too, because there will be a next time.”  Tony’s like, “Sure, yeah, whatever you want.” -- Let’s focus on this time.  And this time, he stays in human-form.

Man, walking into a house...  Tony’s house, his place in Malibu, that’s protected by FRIDAY, not to mention so many Iron-Man suits even the Mandarin couldn’t make a dent in the place anymore.  ...Tony, walking in the door…  His heart was pounding, because he knew what was coming.

And he just barely has the door closed behind him, and he starts to notice…  House is dark, you understand, like, pitch-dark, totally black inside?  But he notices these eyes.  First one pair of eyes, then another one, and then another.  Slit-pupiled snake-eyes, and they’re here, and they’re there, there, there, and there, and they’re all looking at him.  Faint hiss of scales against the floor, they’re coming at him, and he can’t see them, he doesn’t know how far away they are.

Feeling of cold scales, that comes at him out of nowhere.  One snake, then another one; they’re dragging him, lots of snakes, all ganging up, dragging him over to the sofa, and pushing him down.  Snakes, pulling his pants down and out of the way, snakes, holding his arms, pulling his legs apart.

Feeling of being totally defenseless.  It’s pitch-dark, he can’t see anything, his whole world has been shrunk down to just sensations.  Cold scales, holding his arms, legs in place, and now he can hear them, small, almost silent, the pleased sound of their hissing…  Okay, sorry, Loki, but whatever you have planned for the encore?   _There’s no way it can live up to this!_

...Where were we?  Right, Tony, immobilized, bent over the sofa, with his ass up in the air.  Tony, who can’t see anything, all he can do is feel it, and he feels cool air blowing across his bare ass, and he wonders when it’s going to be coming…

It?  The _snake_ , duh.  The Loki-snake.  There’s no way a real snake could get up high enough to reach Tony’s bare ass, hanging over the edge of the sofa, and for that matter, there’s no way a real snake would even want to do it, I mean, what would there be in it for him?  There’s not all that much in it for Loki either, I mean, this isn’t his fantasy, is it?  But he’s doing it anyway, which may mean more than he wants to say about how much he loves his human-boyfriend.

Maybe not too.  Who knows why Loki does things?   _Moving on_ :  Tony’s there in the dark, cold wind, blowing across his bare ass.  He feels cold snake-scales on his wrists, and on his ankles, and he hears the other snake coming closer.

Faint whisper, Loki-snake’s scales, against the hardwood floor.  He’s on the other side of the room, then he’s closer, closer, and now he’s right here.  Silence, as he comes to a halt, and does…  Who knows what?

One minute, he’s on the ground… presumably?  Let’s try that a different way:  One minute, Tony doesn’t know where Snake-Loki is, and then the next minute…  Feeling of cold scales, against his ass.   _Against_?  Try _in_.  Cold scaly head, penetrating between Tony’s ass-cheeks.  Snake-Loki’s head, and there it is, and it’s…

And it’s going inside!  You can get fucked a million times by a cock, and it’s great yeah, and it’s wonderful.  And it’s just a cock, and a dildo is just a dildo, and this is a living animal, and you can _feel_ the difference, and you know what it is?

There’s _control_ there, that’s what’s different.  A cock or a dildo?  No brains, but a snake has brains, it’s thinking about what it’s doing.  Snake-Loki is going deep inside Tony’s ass, he is reaming him, deeper, deeper, deeper.  Meanwhile, there come more snakes, they’re claiming his cock as their own.  Snakes, coiling, pulling, milking him toward climax.

Imagine cumming hard, into the pitch-darkness, snakes on all sides of you.  Imagine the one Main Snake, taking you as his, first fucking you hard, then  coming out, lapping your cum like it’s mother’s milk for him.  All the other snakes leave, when this is finished.  It’s impersonal for them, no emotion there.  The Main Snake, magical, Loki-Snake, he grows.  Now he’s large enough to coil Tony, wrapping miles of scales around him, looking down into his eyes with…

Oh god, Kaa’s hypnotic eyes!  Oh god, his fang-y smile!  Smile of pure power…  How the hell did Loki know Tony’s exact fantasy?

Look of mockery, in Snake-Loki’s red eyes.  “Is this what you wanted, Stark?”

_Oh god yes, Loki, it’s exactly what I wanted!_

Pleasant, comfortable feel of a snake’s body, when he’s almost as large as you are.  Feeling of cuddling him on the sofa, scales, that warm some from your body heat, but they still feel so cool and smooth.

“You have strange tastes in fantasies,” Loki murmurs, “but there’s no accounting for mortal tastes, I suppose.”

“What’s your fantasy then?” Tony asks.

Loki’s like, “Oh, hmm, I have no fantasies.”

Loki’s fantasy is to be accepted. Tony didn’t need to ask, he found that out a long time ago.  Accepted, no matter what form he’s in, man, woman, wolf, or even as a ginger.  Tony kind of, sort of, didn’t accept him this time, making him take the form of this giant Kaa-snake, when Loki’s real snake-form is just 24 inches long.   _Next_ time, though.

“I’ve been doing my research,” Tony says.  “Hemipene?  Very cool.”

Snake-Loki doesn’t say anything, he just curls closer, rests his cold snake-head against Tony’s shoulder.

“Next time we’ll both be snakes,” Tony says.  “I want to feel your hemipene in my cloaca.”

“You’ll have to be careful,” Loki says.  “My snake-form is venomous.”

Tony kisses him on his snake-lips.  “Of course it is.”


	5. Two Snakes -- Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out way more emotion-y than I was expecting. I think it's going to be three parts, when all is said and done, one part for the emotion, and one for the sex, and then maybe a third one after that, for Loki meeting up with one or more of his children.

The wolf-thing was bad enough, but at least Loki’s wolf-memories are good ones.  Then after that there was the snake-thing.  Loki’s pet mortal coming to him, spinning out that long fantasy of his:   _Lots_ of snakes, holding you, Stark?  Ohh, hmm, I _guess_ that could be arranged.  And of course he had to make it all difficult and whatnot:  “Oh, next time, Stark, you _will_ be a snake too.”  Then afterwards, Loki’s stuck, because he just promised that there’ll be a next time, and he can’t seem to get himself to want one.

Here’s a thing Loki has discovered:  Sadness hurts, but it’s guilt that weighs you down.  Guilt, from failed relationships, people you could have... -- Should have! -- ...People you should have been there for, but you turned away.  Three of Loki’s children, estranged, and it’s his fault, and he knows it.

How much do you know about Loki Laufeyson?  Have you read the myths?  You heard of Angrboda?  How about Hela, ruler of the Underworld, or Fenrir, the great wolf, destined to tear All-Father’s throat out, when Ragnarok finally comes?  How about the Midgardian serpent?

Jormungand, his name is, and he was the youngest to leave home, if, the word “home” can be used to describe the miserable cave, freezing cold, constantly wracked with acrimony, where Loki lived with the giantess Angrboda, after he fell from the Bifrost.  Jormungand was the youngest to leave, and he did it without a backward glance.  What did he get from his father?  Nothing but the rage Loki felt at the time for his adoptive brother Thor.  He went out, an engine of destruction, knowing only bitterness, with no understanding that happiness can even be had.

Tony’s fantasy about the snakes and the bondage?  That one was easy.  That one was fun, because it made Tony happy.  Nothing more adorable than the innocent happiness of inferior mortal scum.  The problem came when Stark said, “Oh, next time, Loki, _next time_ we’ll both be snakes,” and then Loki said okay, now he has to follow through.

A snake’s face is Jormungand’s face.  Easy to ignore that when you’re the snake yourself, but looking into another snake’s face?  The Midgardian serpent, like a giant form of Loki’s own snake-form, a European Viper.  Massive sides, scales like his father’s, dark and light, pattern of diamonds, and the red eyes, and the angry expression on his face, natural to a viper.  Jormungand, who was once so small, and Loki held him in his arms, and now he stalks Midgard, seeking whom he may devour.

Stark would probably say it’s Angrboda’s fault…  Actually, he’d probably say it was his fault; Tony always thinks everything is his fault.  But the truth, though?  It’s Loki’s fault.  Portrait of the God of Chaos, feeling guilty, this is what he’s like:

Loki, being very evasive.  Loki, his arms folded all the time, and he’s avoiding Tony, which is out of character for him, and he hasn’t done any work on Ragnarok, ever since that night when Tony said he wanted to do the snake-thing again.   _Only with both of them being snakes_ …  You want to see what a guilty Loki looks like?  This is it:  Tony comes home, and where’s Loki?  He’s at the library.  And Tony tries to get busy with his own stuff.  He’s got all his suits, and he’s got FRIDAY, not to mention Dummy and You, but what doesn’t he have?  His boyfriend.  That’s because suddenly Loki is _never home_.

And this goes on for awhile.  “Maybe Loki’s got work to do,” Tony tells himself, and also, “Maybe he’s found a super-villain to screw around with.”  Mole-Man leads his Moleoids in an attack, and Tony’s looking at him…  Okay, it’s not Mole-Man, just that smell alone, would turn anybody off.  Not to mention the looks.  But what about Dr. Doom, who can be charming, when he wants to be?  What about Namor, who’s pretty hot in that Speedo of his?

Paranoid Tony.  Finally he reaches the last straw, and he has to talk to Loki.  “Why are you avoiding me?” he says.

Loki gives him one of these runaround non-answer answers that guilty people always use:  “What?  I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about.”

And Tony presses it, “You’re always gone,” he says, “and you…”  Tony Stark, who’s not very good at talking about his own feelings either, in fact he’s horrible at it, just ask Pepper.  But, “I love you, Loki,” he says, “and I miss you.  You know we haven’t even been to bed together in a week?  That snake-thing...”  He’s still on about the snake-thing.  He hasn’t got a clue.  This is the problem with dating a mortal.

Loki deflects.  Suave, mellifluous voice (he’s _good_ at doing a suave, mellifluous voice), “What, that?  I thought you’d forgotten about that Stark, I thought you didn’t want to do it anymore.”

Right away Tony pipes up, “Oh, I want to do it, of course I want to do it, don’t you…” -- Here’s the place where the mortal scum is maybe a little more perceptive than the Asgardian was expecting:  “Don’t _you_ want to do it?” Tony says.

What else is there to say?  “Oh, _of course_ I want to do it,” says the God of Mischief.  

And after that:  A European Viper grows to a length of about 24 inches.  He is a slim reptile, his dark-and-light patterning well adapted for concealment, in forest or meadow alike.  Somewhere, buried deep inside him… Buried under his memories of  the horrible days in the cave with Angrboda, and how neither of them was the parent their children needed, and now there’s no way to fix the harm _he_ did…  Somewhere deep inside, are Loki’s memories of being a viper himself, slipping through the cool, wet meadow grass early in the morning, tongue flicking, catching scents on the wind, prey animals coming close, perhaps something going by, that might be a threat…

Honest truth?  It might be kind of pleasant, seeing Stark in snake-form.  He’d probably make a pretty good viper.  And Loki focuses on these thoughts, he pushes Jormungand resolutely from his mind, and he viperizes himself and his boyfriend.

Tony does make a good viper.  He is paler than Loki, a medium brown, where Loki’s own snake-form is almost black.  His diamond patterning shows up better than Loki’s, and his eyes are almost brown, rather than the evil red of an actual viper’s eyes.  And he is _very_ impressed with his new snake-form.

“I know it’s just an illusion, Loki…”  This is Tony, who’s slithered over to a wall-mirror, and is admiring his scales.  “...It feels so real, look at me, I have scales!  I have a forked tongue!”  He’s rising off the ground, he’s trying to get an all-over look at himself.  “I am a male snake, right?” he says.  Then he’s up far enough that he can see for sure.  “Look at me, I have a hemipene!”  Tony looks at Loki, happiest look on his face that a human in viper-form could ever possibly have.  “Do I have an asshole?”

Amused tone, that a proper God of Mischief should use when discussing these things with mortals:  “A cloaca.  You should know.  You did the research, didn’t you?”

“Of course, of course, only…”  Irrepressible Tony, being excited as only a mortal can be:  “Damn, this is fun,” he says.  “I love my snake form, and now I want to see yours!”

And he loves Loki’s snake form too, and he is very, very eager for them to “ _get it on_ ,” as he puts it.  “Way I figure,” he tells his boyfriend, “first we do a little play-fighting.  I’m not going to make this easy, Loki, first you have to beat me, and then you can fuck me.”

As for beating him?  That’s going to be easy.  Stark’s never fought as a snake before, whereas Loki has subdued actual vipers, and some of them a lot larger than him.  And they fight…  Tony has altogether the wrong attitude about it.  “It’s like thumb-wrestling!”  He’s got his head and half his body in the air, goofy smile on his face, that no real serpent ever wore in his life, and his fangs poking out over his grinning snake-lips.  “One, two, three, four, I declare a snake-war.  Come on and get me, Loki,” he yells.

Loki gets him.  Stark’s a better fighter than you’d expect, and it isn’t easy, and he almost gets angry there for a moment.  Fangs at-ready…  “Watch out, Loki,” Tony yelps.  “Didn’t you say you had real venom in there?”

Grumpy response from the Liesmith:  “I should just bite you and have done with it, Stark.  I’m sick of dealing with a mortal.”

This is when Stark makes the most brilliant observation of the day:  “You’re not really into this, are you, Loki?”

_What ever gave you that idea, mortal?_

Helpful mortal, offering, “That’s all right, we can just cuddle.”

Mental picture in Loki’s mind:  Jormungand, barely out of the egg, cuddled close in his Daddy’s arms.  Loki pulls away from Tony.  “I’m busy,” he says.  “I have important work to do.  On Ragnarok.”

“Ragnarok’s over.”  By some effort of willpower, Tony’s resumed his human form.  Now he’s back to his full size, and he picks up Loki, cuddles him in his two cupped hands.  “I know you,” he says.  “You’re not going to tell me what’s bothering you, are you?”  Soft kiss, human lips, pressed against Loki’s viper-head.  “That’s all right,” he says, “I know that’s how you are, you don’t like talking about things.”  Another kiss.  “Just don’t shut me out, okay?  We’re a couple, and I love you, and I want us to stay together.”

This is how it goes the second time Loki tries to have snake-sex with his mortal pet.  It’s not so successful, but it’s not…

Life with a mortal:  Tony is inferior, and let’s face it, he’s got the lifespan of a mayfly, but he cares about Loki, and sometimes it feels good, just being with someone who cares about you that way.  Disturbing realization:  Tony makes Loki want to be a better person.  How much better can you be, and still be a super-villain?  There is a limit, right?

Plans for many, many future evil deeds.  Really _evil_ evil deeds, heartless, and gruesome, like the time Dr. Doom sacrificed Valeria’s soul to make the deal with the demons.  Loki stirs them around his head, tries to pick out the evillest one of all, to do first.

Stark’s influence is getting to him.  He almost had the idea that he maybe might take his mortal boyfriend to meet his children, at least Jormungand, who’s right here in Midgard.  Eh, maybe it’s too late for a father-son bonding moment.  At least he’s got to give the viper-sex thing another go, though.  It would make Tony happy.  And a happy mortal is a less annoying one, who doesn’t bother you as much when you're trying to plot the end of the Nine Realms.


	6. Tony, Loki, and a Sea Serpent

What does it look like when you meet your boyfriend’s magical sea-monster son for the first time?  Something like this:

“I was a bad father…”  This is Loki.  He’s sitting in the front part of the little boat Tony rented in Santa Monica.  Dark day, fog, being blown inland, by this cold, cold-cold-cold wind.  They’re wearing life-preservers, of course, because that’s what one does, and, “I was a bad father,” Loki says.  He doesn’t sound all that sad about it.

“Sometimes you can’t help it…”  This is Tony, his words coming short, because Loki’s got him doing all the rowing.  “People do the best they can.”  Would he say that about his own dad?  Or even Odin, for that matter?  But he always makes excuses for Loki.

Back behind them?  There’s the harbor.  Ahead is open ocean, and it’s cold, and it’s grey, and it’s very, very quiet.  For a while you can hear the sound of sea birds, then that fades away, it’s just the waves, and the sound of Tony rowing.

And then boom, out of the shadows there suddenly rears up this form.  You’ve seen sea serpents in picture books, right?  Not the dragon-kind with fins, like Fin Fang Foom, Jormungand’s the kind who looks like a real snake, in fact he looks just like his father when he’s in snake-form, only millions, and millions of times bigger.

Here’s what Tony sees:  Black scales, like a wall, stretching up into the sky.  Body uncoils, and it rears…  Holy fuck, giant snake-body, oh god, oh jesus, mouth like a train-tunnel, fangs the size of city buildings, dripping poison in horrible, green drops.  Angry viper-face, face the size of Avengers Tower, mean-red snake-eyes, glowing eyes the size of searchlights, and they look around for a minute, then they lock on Tony and Loki, and Jormungand smiles.

Nobody wants a giant magical sea monster smiling at them.  Hell, maybe it’s even a friendly smile,  you can’t always tell, but you know what?  It’s still terrifying.  And Loki looks at Jormungand, and he looks at Tony, and then he smiles too.  This is less terrifying.  Tony’s pretty much used to his boyfriend’s evil smiles by now.  It also makes Jormungand’s terrifying smile less terrifying.  Why?  Family resemblance.  Just for a minute, you can see it, and it’s weirdly cute.

And then they keep on rowing.  Magical monster is still a few miles out.  Tony’s wishing he’d brought a suit along, to do the rowing.  It’s not that he can’t do it, but it’s not much fun.  Blisters, etcetera.  Ahead of them, the giant monster’s coils are getting larger and larger.  Tony makes out a diamond pattern on the back, that’s just like the pattern on snake-Loki’s back, and he watches those angry snake-eyes, that are just like Loki’s angry snake-eyes, and he looks into that evil snake-smile that’s also just like Loki’s.

Definition of true love, maybe:  When you meet your boyfriend’s deadly sea-serpent son.  The only person Jormungand’s ever tried to eat was Thor, so who knows if it’s even that dangerous, but what it is?  Pure fuckin’ terrifying, that’s what it is.  Pants-pissing terrifying, the kind of thing that will scare you out of a year’s growth, only here goes our hero, he’s still rowing out to the sea monster, because Loki wants him to, and if that isn’t love?  I don’t know what is.

And finally they get there.  It is not the most satisfying family reunion in the whole wide world.  Only here’s the thing:  Tony’s never had a satisfying family reunion with anyone in his entire life.  Satisfying family reunions are a myth.  What the real ones look like?

Tony’s mother:  “Nag-nag-nag, and blah-blah,  _ your father _ this, Tony, and  _ your father _ that, and  _ your father _ the other thing, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”  And would he still give every penny he had for just the chance of one more reunion like that with her?  Hellz yeah!  Do you even have to ask?  So do not come at me with that “satisfying family reunion” bullshit, normal people will take any kind of reunion they can get.

You know that time when Thor dragged Loki off the Quinjet and then they both tried to kill each other?  You could tell they were still happy to see each other.  Always stuck out all over them, every time they were together, even the time when Loki was in handcuffs, and Thor was dragging him home to get spanked by Daddy.  Brothers fight, and they say they hate each other, but see here’s the thing with family:  You can never tear family out of your heart.  Keep that in mind, it’s important.  Now, lets go on with the story:

Nobody tries to kill anybody else today.  In fact, they’re all very civil.  What do they talk about?  Business-talk, about Ragnarok.  Super-villain shop-talk, “Blah-blah Fenrir, and rivers of blood, and Hela, and the Army of the Dead, can you handle Midgard, son?  Good, I’ll take Asgard, All-Father will not be safe, not even within the walls of  Hlidskialf itself, heh, heh, heh.”

And there are some other things too.  Just short things, if you weren’t paying attention, you would miss them:  “How have you been keeping yourself, son?  Are you well?”  “Yes, Father, and are you?”  Just polite stuff?  Just being said for manners?  Yeah, but _if you could see their_ _faces_.

Then after that, they go back.  Loki seems ...happy ...for him.  

Happy Loki:  Sarcastic look in those green eyes.  Loki, lumpy in his big orange life-preserver, face framed by a watch-cap, because it’s cold out there on the Pacific.  Loki, looking at Tony, and he tries to keep the usual patronizing look on his face, but you keep seeing glints of happiness.

“Should I be flattered that you took me to meet him?”  This is Tony, short of breath, because he’s rowing again.

“Go ahead, if you want to.”  Snarky Loki-tone.  “You mortals are ridiculous, the strangest things please you.”

“Yes, yes, and you Asgardians are always so superior.”  This is Tony, home now, cuddled with Loki on the sofa, and both of them drinking hot rum-toddies as fast as they can, so they can get warm again.  Tony, cuddled with Loki under a blanket, with his arm around his long-tall-drink-of-water super-villain boyfriend, and his head on his shoulder.  “You are beings of pure reason.”  Quick kiss, just  _ there _ , on that perfect Loki-jawline of his.  “And we humans are so inferior, we should just all look up at you and admire.”

Here’s what it’s like, meeting your super-villain boyfriend’s magical sea-monster son for the first time:  First you meet him, boyfriend is very happy.  Then you go home, both of you are cold and tired, and you cuddle on the sofa together, all evening long.

Villain-boyfriend, to the superhero-protagonist:  “Shall we try the snake-thing again tonight, Stark?  I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

Stark to the super-villain:  “Not tonight.”  And another kiss to that perfect villain-jawline of Loki’s.  “Maybe tomorrow, for now let’s just cuddle.  Are you happy, Loki?”

“Hmmph,  _ happy _ .”  Loki’s best super-villain tone.  “You mortals are so pathetic, Stark.”  But there’s a glow in his green eyes that says he’s very happy indeed.


	7. Two Snakes -- Part Two

Here’s something Loki’s never going to say out loud to his little mortal boyfriend:  That meeting Tony arranged for him with Jormungand?  He actually really liked that.  (Spoiler alert:  Tony knows this.  He’s getting pretty fluent in Loki.)  Now he’s thinking maybe he should meet with some of his other children.  Fenrir, for instance:  He’s got to have some free time in between lurking around and waiting to destroy All-Father.  Who knows, maybe he’d like to see his dad.  And there’s also Hel, and maybe even Sleipnir.  

New addition onto Loki’s plan for Ragnarok (This is a sub-paragraph, to the one about how he’s going to protect Tony):  First, tell all his assorted goons and henchmen not to destroy the Royal Stables, and second, be sure and bring along a sack of oats to give his son for a present.  That’ll work.  Definitely.

For right now though, there is still the matter of the snake-sex.  Tony wants it, and Loki knows that.  It’s not that he loves his little mortal toy, you’d better be sure of that, because all-powerful gods do not love pitiable mortal weaklings, and if you think they do, it’s merely you being delusional.  He does feel something for him, but it is merely the generosity that one feels for a pet or something.  Right now, his pet wants to do this snake-thing.  Generous Loki will kindly give him that opportunity.

This is what the opportunity looks like.

Tony to Loki:  “I’m assuming we don’t want to be in a bed for this?”

Silky Loki-tones in response:  “You mortals, Stark, always so clever.”

Brilliant-Tony:  “Well, where then?  I’m thinking: a forest…”

No, it was always a field of some kind, or a meadow.  Sense-memory:  Smell of grass, and the small, frightened scent of prey in the distance, ignored for now.  Odor of the female awaiting congress, and the hard little grit-grit feel of gravel from the pathway, under one’s stomach-scales.

“I will create the setting,” generous Loki tells his mortal pet.  “An illusion, like your snake-form.”

Tony sits there looking eager, like a puppy, and waits to be illusioned.

The serpent was never Loki’s favorite form.  (Too small, and not enough venom.)  Nonetheless, returning to it now, there is something…

Here’s the thing, is it’s not him taking snake-form, it’s Stark doing it.  Tiny snake-eyes, but with a Tony look in them, and the enthusiastic way he takes to wriggling.  Tony’s a paler serpent than Loki is, rich-brown color, like his hair, with the diamond scale-pattern on his back, very evident.

“I like being a snake.”  Tony lets his fangs down and looks like an idiot.

That sound you hear?  It might be a snake-laugh.  (Only since when do Gods of Chaos laugh about mere mortal silliness?)

“Retract your fangs.”  Helpful-Loki will give him some snake-lessons.  “Use your tongue.  Thus…”  He demonstrates.  “What can you smell?”

Tiny Stark-the-Snake, his little forked tongue flickering.  His eyes widen.  “Loki, that’s amazing!  It’s even better than in dog-form!”

Loki-Viper nods his head.  “Move closer, see if you can catch my scent.”  Tony slithers close.  “The scent of the female is stronger than the scent of a male,” Loki tells him, “but once you have learned it, that scent is unmistakable.”

Stark-the-Snake is now practically right on top of him, and he’s flicking his little tongue around like anything.  “I can smell it.”  Flick, flick, flick.  “Is that it?”  More flicks.  “I…  There’s just so many smells down here.”

“Do you smell me?”  A pause, then slowly, Stark-the-Snake nods.  And, “Do you want to fight me?” Loki asks.  No need for another nod, for he can see the answer in his mortal’s eyes.  Pleased tone, “That’s natural.  Now we fight.”

The Dance of the Adders, two males, both fixed on one another, both seeking to dominate.  Stark, inexperienced as he is, should be an easy victory, and yet, his indomitable spirit makes him a challenge.  He easily catches the rules of the game:  Move quickly, raise head, entwine with the opponent, seeking to force them to the ground.

Something else that makes this different from past combats?  Stark’s scent keeps reaching him; it distracts him from the fight.  It speaks of things Loki would not have thought he valued, of a home, and a loving partner waiting there, and ...safety.

Safety, ha!  Just how, pray tell, could a mortal possibly give safety to a god?  And yet…  And yet…

“I’m going to beat you, Loki.”  Impossibly, Tony has Loki’s pressed, almost to the ground.  His long snake’s body is entwined full-length with Loki’s, and there goes his head, in another attempt to trap Loki’s.

“Just don’t bite me.”  At the very last possible moment, Loki manages to evade.  Now he is on the offensive, readjusting, doubling back, his slim, flexible body, entangled with Stark’s, his red adder’s eyes alert, seeking the moment for the final blow.

“Is this getting you as horny as it is me?”  Stark’s voice distracts him only momentarily, but it is enough.  Suddenly Loki finds his own head pressed down, the smooth scales of Tony’s holding him in place, so he’s unable to wriggle free.

“Unfair, mortal!”

Tony laughs (this is the second snake-laugh of the story, if you’re counting).  “Yeah, but I won, didn’t I?”

“Next time you will not.”

Now there’s a calculating tone to Tony’s snake-voice.  “Oho, so you want a next time, do you?”

“Perhaps.”  Loki flicks a glance, sees his mortal’s smug snake-smile.  “If you do.”

“Yeah.”  Tony’s scaled body is soft now, against Loki’s.  His head is angled, their cheeks touching.  “I do.”

As the one with experience in snake-form, Loki takes the leader’s position.  He rubs his chin all along the scaly body of his mortal lover.  Beneath him, he can feel Stark shiver in response.  Now he moves to parallel him, vibrating his body against Tony’s.  Immediately, another shiver.  Loki feels his own arousal, coupled with…  Can it be that he feels  _ love _ ...for a  _ mortal _ ?

“I want you, Loki.”  Stark’s voice, a hiss, urgent sounding.

Loki wants him too.  The feeling of arousal is always coupled with the emergence of the hemipene, the twin penises that enter a partner’s cloaca, and shoot their semen there.  Loki feels his, as they rise, their search for Tony’s cloaca natural, almost involuntary.

Their two bodies are locked together, cool scales against other cool scales, meeting closely, from head to mid-body, and then with the two tails entwined.  Tony’s cloaca is there, he has found it.  He enters, and their two bodies vibrate together until the moment of emission.

Tony’s eyes close.  Pleasure, relaxation, almost bliss.  His tongue flicks past Loki’s head.  “I can smell it,” he says, “the sex.”

Loki’s pleasure is strong too, stronger than he likes to admit.  “Mortal fool.”

More little flicks of Tony’s snake-tongue, and a look on his face that bespeaks absolute happiness.  “You sweet talker.” 

This story is now at an end.  It is the tale of a God of Chaos:  Once he felt generous, bestowing the gift of his presence upon a mortal.  That mortal then wished to try sexual congress with him in certain forms, and Loki bestowed this gift upon him as a boon, and the result?

Perhaps Gods of Chaos can fall in love with mortals.  Who knows?  It’s possible.  Certainly, stranger things have happened.


End file.
